For $20 bucks Toronto’s ‘Rage Room’ provides anyone who needs to let off some steam the opportunity to armor up in protective gear, select a weapon of their choice, pick a theme song, and proceed to break five splendidly fragile ceramic plates for the sake of inner peace. How are we just witnessing this kind of ingenious ‘rage club’ if you will, now? Granted Chuck Palahniuk was on to something with that whole ‘Fight Club’ bit.
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The ‘Rage Room’ lends a whole new meaning to some stressed out jabronie who’s jacked up on caffeine, deadlines, exams, relationship woes, dwindling bank account funds, and needs to let loose by going full-fledged rage cage mode. To me, rage cage mode represents those maddened moments anyone lashes out in red-eyed rage, unleashing havoc on all those in their path through blazing trash talk, pushing, punching, and even breaking shit beyond repair. Pint glasses often pose as suitable candidates. Usually this happens in sports, and especially pick-up games between the straight-edged rule-abiding bitch who calls an endless string of fouls on the dirty, sweaty, rule-breaking buffoon who compensates for sluggish feet by fouling the hell outta’ anyone to come down his lane. You know these guys, oh yes, you know them well.
I previously possessed no desire to venture out to Toronto, and I still don’t, but damn if I’m putting my vote in for the States to roll out some ‘rage rooms’ over upcoming days.